Wish I Stayed
by Craycrayskittlez
Summary: Cashmere has just won the Hunger Games but training only prepared her to survive the games, not what comes after.
1. Chapter 1

The toes of her shimmering shoes tapped without rhythm. Her hands folded and unfolded themselves in her lap as her back rested stiff against the padded chair. She refrained as well as she could from smacking the glimmering gloss off her lips as the clock ticked.

Gloss.

Her perfect posture faltered and the tapping halted as her pink lips stretched into a smile across her face. It was only a matter of time now until she got to go home. Back to the familiar asphalt streets of District One where: the candy sweet air filled her nose; she rolled evenly cut jewels of her mother's beads between her fingers and she indulged in the company that came along with delicious home cooked dinners. She missed it all during her weeks in the Capitol and Arena, but definitely missed ihim/i the most.

Unfolding her hands once more from her lap, one of her gold nails traced the lines in her dainty palm. Just like he would, to put her at ease.

"Two more bites," Pashmina smiled as she pulled the silver spoon from between her youngest daughter's lips.

"Isn't she getting a little old to be spoon fed by now?" Cashmere asked, twirling the strings of her pasta around her fork.

Pashmina turned to her eldest daughter, then back towards her youngest, whose mouth was opening, anticipating another bite. "She's only two years old. Even you weren't self-sufficient then," she pointed out to Cashmere as Twinkle happily chewed on her last scoopful of dinner. "Good girl, hunny! Do you want your juice now?" The toddler giggled and nodded her head.

Cashmere cringed and pushed her half full plate closer into the table.

"Finish your dinner," Gersemi called from behind her as he walked into the dining room with Twinkle's bottle in his hands. "The next few weeks of your life will be crucial and you'll need as much sustenance as you can get to win."

Cashmere's eyes snapped up towards her step-father's eyes in shock, only to have to pull her gaze away quickly as he, too, cooed at his daughter.

"I'm aware of what I need, Father, I just don't have an appetite anymore. That's all." Cashmere continued to push her plate further way. "Though, if it makes you feel better, I'd eat more if we had a real dinner again without all this fussing over the brat."

"Cashmere Reitz! How dare you be so rude to us like that! Twinkle is a part of the family now and we'd like for you to respect her, even if she is only a toddler." Gersemi bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. He never used his work voice at home; even Twinkle stopped babbling in recognition.

The usual soft silver of his eyes turned hard, as they filled with something Cashmere had never seen him emit. She was not even sure what to call it. Whatever it was, she was not going to give him the satisfaction of intimidating her. She was at the top of her class at the Academy and was the female candidate for the coming Games. Someone prepared to kill 23 other children was not going to let her old man scare her. She did not need to respect that brat, even if they shared blood. Twinkle would have to earn it like everyone else did.

Cashmere was about to open her mouth to retort when Gloss' firm hand slid into hers. Her eyes darted to his, green hissing with malcontent but those silver ones of his were calm. They instantly grounded her to her spot; his fingers splayed and trickled along the lines in her opened palm.

"She isn't so bad, Cas. She's pretty cute when she's asleep, there's no crying, no babbling, no mess. You should help mother put her to bed tonight, I'm sure you'll change your mind after that." Gloss flashed her one of those gentle smiles of his.

He always knew just what to say. Cashmere looked up at the clock; only a few more hours.

The creak of the heavy doors opening brought her attention away from the electronic on the wall to the office's newest inhabitant. Cashmere adjusted her posture; her hands fell flat over her covered thighs and her toes curled against the material of her open-toe shoes. Whiffs of roses puffed through the air around her and grew exponentially as its originator came closer towards her.

"So nice of you to join me, Ms Graff," President Coriolanus Snow greeted with a gentle cough, "I hope the banquet last night was to your liking."

"It was beautiful, Mr. President, thank you." Her mouth stretched into a smile, forcefully. She did not take well to those using her old family name as opposed to her new one. Not that she did not love her natural father; Cashmere much preferred the present one.

Snow took his seat in his large, leather chair directly across from the latest Victor. His plump lips pulled into a smile of equal diameter, only to have a small trail of blood flow from the corner of his mouth.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Fine, child," he took his handkerchief and dabbed the blood away, "Thank you for your concern. Though, I must say that I much prefer your ruthless, cool side in comparison." He leered directly at her, "I think the rest of Panem would agree as well."

Cashmere smacked her lips ever so gently as they turned up in a much more genuine grin, "I do what I have to, to survive."

"Is that so, Ms Graff," The president's eyes fixated themselves onto her face, "Then I'm sure our conversations will go fairly smoothly from here on out." He lifted himself from his desk and leaned closer towards her. A hand of his coming up close along the side of her face, as his boney fingers rubbed a piece of her hair between them.

Inch by inch those fingers crawled into her artificially enhanced curls. Coiling around her scalp, they prodded gently at the sensitive skin beneath it. Cashmere twisted the fabric of her dress in her hands as tightly as she could, refusing to twitch, scream or push the President away.

"I see Remake did an excellent job restoring the hair that boy from District Two cruelly pulled from your head," Snow whispered into her ear.

Within moments, she was no longer in the office. What was the smell of roses became that of dried blood mixed with humidity, sweat and marsh water. The green-brown water flittered onto her tongue with each gulp of breath she attempted to take as Syn tugged her up only to plunge her beneath the surface again.

This time, Cashmere did scream as both hands roughly pushed the President back into his chair, her fingernails swiping across his face in defense. The Peacekeepers were on her in milliseconds as they had her pinned to the floor, prepared to use sedatives.

"That'll be unnecessary," Snow instructed the guards, "Release Ms Graff please."

"Reitz!" She yelled in her fit of anxiety, "My name is Cashmere Reitz!"

"Of course it is, child. How terribly sorry I am to have temporarily stripped you of your connection to your beloved Gloss. Though, I doubt that a little piece of paper would keep you away from him."

Cashmere glowered at the President as the Peacekeepers let go of their hold on her, "Leave my brother out of this!"

"Oh? Is that what you call him? I'm sure I can come up with a handful of terms that list you as anything but, coined especially by those 'friends' of yours at the Academy."

Cashmere's gaze flickered with fear, "They wouldn't do something like that. They understand!"

Snow's husky laughter filled the room, "In all my years as President, not a single child I encountered has ever understood."

Her spine began to tremor as grotesque warmth filled her core and fanned into her fingers and toes. Cashmere's trembling hands ran along the side of her body, pitching and pulling at the fabric of her dress. It was as though her clothes had been torn off her and she stood in the clinically white office in no more than her undergarments. She felt no more vulnerable than an exposed nerve.

The warmth turned cold and her teeth began to chatter. She had been victorious in the 61st Games over 23 other tributes, one of which brutally attacked and desecrated her body. She has earned unrivaled levels of honour for herself, her district, her family and yet it is not enough for President Snow to believe she is but a child. No child could have walked out of that swampy-wasteland alive.

"Please, I'd like to go home now, sir," Cashmere crushed the silk of her dress in her palm, eyes still staring straight into Snow.

"Not yet, my dear. There is a dinner I would like you to attend with me. It will be tomorrow evening, right here in the mansion. Then, I will be sure you are on your way back to District One."

"You guarantee this will be your final request of me?" Cashmere asked, warily.

"You have my word that I, personally, will ask no more of you this year."

Four months of immunity from whatever he had planned was long enough for her to gather herself and face her next challenge with a clear mind.

"What time should I be there?"

Snow's smile finally fell along with his eye contact as he began to shuffle through papers on his desk, "I'll inform Miss Archer of the details." He looked up from the paper he was scribbling on for only a moment, "Sleep well, my dear and congratulations on your victory."

She all but ran out of the office, nearly losing her shoes, once the Peacekeepers opened the heavy doors for her.

When Cashmere got back to the Training Centre, she did not so much as greet her mentor, Tiffany Lewis, or her escort, Luciana Archer, before climbing into the shower. She scrubbed every inch of her body that lay in filth from Capitol hands. The soapy water concealed her tears as the sound from the pipes masked her soft cries for her brother. To her surprise, when she stepped out of the steamy shower stall, nothing covering her thin figure, she felt infinitely less exposed then she did an hour ago.

Only 24 more hours, then she'll be home.

"Spin for me, Cash," Nero asked in his deep tone as his index finger twirled in demonstration. Cashmere whirled on the spot. Her strapless, sweetheart-cut, emerald dress flowed around her slender body as it parachuted at her ankles. The strands of blond tresses that were not wrapped in a bun smoothly followed the circular motion. "Perfect," he smiled as he placed a gentle kiss on her powdered cheeks with his orange lips.

A natural blush enhanced the makeup as her eyes sparkled. All before giving her stylist a hug in return, "Thank you, for everything."

"It has been my pleasure. I look forward to the Victory Tour; I've already started making preparations."

She attempted to not let her smile slip; it was still a few months away. She nodded and kissed his cheek before placing her hand on the door handle. One well manicured foot in front of the other, took Cashmere out into the hallway where Tiffany and Luciana waited patiently for her arrival. Luciana's powder caked face lit up while she touched the exposed, white skin above the dress line.

"You're gorgeous, darling! Nero, you've out done yourself!" Luciana cooed while Nero flashed her a smile.

"Is there a shawl to match?" Tiffany asked, her eyes still half their normal size as they looked at Cashmere from a distance.

Nero's densely cream dusted face fell, shaking his head, "The dress code for the evening states otherwise." Cashmere barely caught the small scoff Tiffany emitted as she rolled her crystal blue eyes.

"At least the dress touches the floor, I guess," Tiffany grumbled as she turned on her heel, walking towards the main living space of the apartment.

"Everything will be okay," Luciana unnecessarily consoled Cashmere, who looked more confused by her mentor's reaction than concerned, "Just remember to smile," she continued as delicate, gold nails pushed the corners of Cashmere's mouth from a frown to a grin. "Never stop smiling."

The victor nodded, leaving Luciana with a sparking smile of her own as the escort pushed her out of the apartment door.

"Three more hours," Cashmere mumbled to herself as she watched the city lights of the Capitol through the tinted limousine window as it took her towards her destination, "and then I'll be back on the train."

The moment her emerald toes stepped onto the marble tile of Snow's mansion, all eyes of every colour turned toward her. Cashmere daintily took her steps across the room, passing by many slack jawed Capitol men and envious Capitol women. She smiled with every whitened tooth she had while the gloss on her lips made them sparkling infinitely more.

"So glad you could join us this evening, my dear," Snow greeted her at the bottom of the main spiral staircase. Taking her hand in his, he kissed it gently before looping it through his arm. "Nero has done a wonderful job with you this evening," he whispered into her ear as he guided her up the steps, "You look marvelous!"

Cashmere felt her skin crawl. She wanted to pull her hand away, put a good meter between them as they walked side by side. But she knew she wouldn't get away with being forceful with Snow in public. He was only so forgiving.

"Thank you, sir," her pearly whites remained visible.

Snow smiled as he came to a full stop on the second floor landing. Huddling near a small part of space near the banister, a group of Capitol men chuckled amongst themselves in their golden suits and their forest green bowties.

"There are a few people I would like you to meet, Ms. Reitz," Snow began, catching the attention of the men. Their puffed up lips stretched into delighted smiles. "Mr. Felix Faber, Mr. Junius Gallus and Mr. Ovidus Valerii."

It was of no surprise to her that she did not recognize them, with the way in which Capitol people followed frequent trends. Though, she did feel herself relax as the men, who were well acquainted with her father, shook her hand graciously.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she curtseyed with a smile.

"You've grown up to be quite the young woman. It's so hard to believe that you're the same girl in those family photos Gersemi used to send out at New Years," Felix spoke as he placed his empty wine glass on the silver platter an Avox held out to him.

"If I did not see it with my own eyes, I could never imagine our menacing Victor with big bows in her hair," Ovidus laughed, followed by Felix as both men securely gripped onto her slender forearms.

Cashmere smiled and laughed lightly, tugging softly in hopes that their hands would loosen. They took the hint just as a new Avox came around with another round of wine glasses. Thanking the servant, Cashmere took her glass.

Glancing around their quaint circle briefly, she noticed the President was no longer amongst them. Turning her head both left, right, backwards and forwards, he was nowhere in sight.

"Whatever happened to those photos anyways?" Junius asked, running his fingers along the side of her neck and up along the side of her jaw as he came up behind her, "He wouldn't be locking you up now would he? Keeping his lovely daughter all to himself?"

Her back stiffened as she could feel the air from Junius' mouth on the base of her neck. Neither Felix nor Ovidius looked wary of his actions. It was as if this were as common a sight as the sun in the sky.

"We stopped for a while," Cashmere claimed, keeping her voice steady, "but now that the new baby has been born, I'm sure Mother and Father will gladly begin again. They have been glowing with adoration for her. I don't think they could pass up a chance to flaunt the little brat."

"Dear me, jealous over the new baby? Maybe those New Years bows and curly pig tails do suit you," Junius hummed in her ear. Cashmere held her hands at her side, filed nails creating half moon craters in her palm. "Then again, I'm sure your parents would be more than happy to show off the daughter who cheated death."

Cashmere shook the man off her as she pivoted around to stare at him straight in his lime green eyes. Junius was youthful and surprisingly more handsome than she could recall 20 minutes ago. He was lean, skin as tight and new as if he were born yesterday. Unfurling her fingers from the ball they were in, she flattened them on his cheek. It could not possibly be real.

"Of course, if you don't mind me adding how beautifully you had claimed your crown. Sticking that boy from District Two in the heart with his sword was absolutely brilliant!"

She could feel the muscles tug into a smile on his face, his eyes opening wide with excitement at the recollection. Cashmere could not say she felt the same as her vision blurred and the room began to spin. Falling to her knees, she clasped her head in her hands, eyes falling shut.

He had wrestled her to the rain drenched arena floor, his sword hanging idly at his waist as he attempted to stab her with the knife in his hands. She remembers how thick the core of his body felt between her bare legs; how impossible it seemed to shift his body weight from her. If he had been at his full strength, with a few complete meals sitting in his stomach, she most likely would have died right then and there. But she knew he was sleep derived, hungry and incredibly weary. Mustering all she could, she managed to send his large frame toppling down, soiling his open calf wound. His sword flew out of his hand as he fell hard against the ground. Immediately, he reached for his sword. Syn swung it as high as he could, his arm span ready to bring the tip of the blade straight down through a bald spot on her head. Cashmere held onto her shriek as she made a grab for her axe and swiped it just in time to chop his arm above the joint.

"Are you alright, Ms Reitz," It was Felix's soft voice that she heard calling in the distance.

Syn's screams were shrill and provided them both with the perfect distraction as Cashmere ripped the sword from his grasp and skewered him through the heart. Six times.

She could feel the blood seeping down his arm onto her hands, the smell mixing with the mud at her feet brought waves of nausea. But Cashmere didn't have time to expel the limited contents of her stomach when the canon fired. The Capitol was hovering above her, reaching down to collect their bodies.

"Someone, please help!" Felix roared loudly amongst the mansion, she could feel his voice bounce off the walls, "Cashmere!"

Amongst the ringing of the canon, she heard every single click of shoes that came running up towards her. That grotesque warmth filled her body again. She could feel her stomach churn as people began to mutter in wonder around her.

"Head between your knees, princess, and breathe through ya nose," an unfamiliar voice instructed her gently.

The voice was not laced with Capitol inflections. It was much less refined, as if the man learned to speak with the least amount exposure to education possible. "If you don't breathe, I'm gonna assume you're dead."

Cashmere inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She repeated the cycle until her vision cleared and she could see the mass of people not a yard in front her.

"When you're ready to stand, squeeze my hand. I'll help you up," the district man said with his hand held out in front of her. His skin was dark, unlike someone from Four, more like a person from Eleven or Twelve. She brought her eyes up to his face. The man's gray eyes were harder than Gloss' and her step-father's, yet they struck a chord of familiarity and security inside her.

Cashmere nodded, hair falling out of the bun as it stuck to her perspirating face. She reached out a slimy hand to his, clenching it tightly. His hands were ice in comparison, but he did not pull back. As promised he helped her up. With a wobbly step, she tripped into his other outstretched arm.

"How about we get ya cleaned up," he asked, leading her through the dividing crowd towards the closest washroom.

The walls of the corridors were as sickly white as the President's office. What was not lacquered in the blinding wash was covered in what Cashmere recognized as paintings from before Panem. History class in the Academy covered topics of not just war during and before Panem, but time periods of painters, inventors and innovators.

"Monet… and Van Gogh…" Cashmere mumbled, pointing to their respected paintings. Though, all it earned her was a quizzical look from the man who gripped onto her tighter as they continued on. Her history teacher, Ms. Agate, claimed that these paintings were lost upon the creation of Panem in what was called the Apocalypse. However, the term Apocalypse is a term frowned upon. President Snow, who authorized the words written in their textbooks, preferred the term, The Final War. If Snow began to censor the history textbooks, what else was he keeping from the people of Panem ?

"Ah! This should be it." The man chimed as he turned the golden handle. Unfortunately, what lay behind the door was not a washroom. A young man, who looked no older than her current escort, lay amongst his gold, satin bed sheets with the young woman who took last year's crown, wrapped around his hips. Her long, black hair fell just above her tail bone; sultry brown eyes clouded as she looked towards their guests with a smirk. Sitting up on his elbows, the young man's blood eyes shot open while his short, snow white hair was plastered to his face.

"Wrong room, much? Bathroom's next door. On your right," the woman purred, exposing her sharp teeth, the points shinning in gold.

"Sorry 'bout that," with that, the district man slammed the door behind them.

Upon opening the correct door, Cashmere fell onto the pristine white tiles. She slowly crawled over to the porcelain basin and hugged the bowl for dear life as what was her lunch, came up.

When she pulled her colourless face from the toilet, her vision was 20/20. The district man stood there watching her, back leaning against the granite sink counter with those gray eyes of his dancing in amusement. He was a lot more attractive than her blurry vision and well trained District One ears gave him credit for, even if he did smell heavily of scotch.

"It's nice not seeing the bottom of the bowl for a change," Cashmere took it back; there was nothing attractive about a man taking pleasure in her pain. "Drink too much?"

"No," she retorted, pushing loose pieces of hair behind her ear, "I just…kind of had a moment."

The man's smile fell and he slid down the cabinets until his bottom touched the cool floor. "I can understand that."

Cashmere groaned as her larynx closed and she felt another wave of bile travel up through her esophagus.

She could feel his cool hands through the thin fabric of her dress as they made large, soothing circles on her back. "I'm sure she'd have come if Tiff knew this was going to happen."

"Huh?" Cashmere mumbled, lifting her head once more, saliva pooling at the corner of her mouth.

The man laughed while he ran a hand through his dark hair and down his face. Tearing off a piece of toilet paper from the roll, he dabbed away the fluid. "Babysittin' other Victors' kids is not somethin' I'd like to make a habit. Tell Tiff that." He threw the soiled paper into the toilet, "'specially kids like you. If I didn't know they'd trained ya, I would've called it a miracle that you came outta those games alive."

Cashmere huffed and swiftly bounced onto her feet, ignoring him. Flushing the vomit down, she washed her hands and pulled out the tie that held her bun of hair in place. Flicking the blond mass left to right, then down and up, the mess dissipated and organized itself beautifully down her back. Clearing her smudged make up with a tissue, she smacked her bare lips with a sigh. The little piece of Gloss she carried with her went down the drain along with everything else.

What time was it anyways?

"Now that you've got some colour in your cheeks, I'mma head out," The man called, "It was nice to meet'cha, princess."

"Wait!" She reached out to him, grabbing his wrist, "Which district are you from?"

A broken smile crossed his face as he tugged his hand free, "Twelve." And he curtly ducked out of the door before she could ask any more questions.

She began to chase after him, only to have Junius Gallus step out in front of her and claim her full attention. "There you are! Did you have a delightful escapade with Mr. Abernathy?"

Abernathy? Haymitch Abernathy! The victor from the Second Quarter Quell.

She had just turned six years old when it aired. Her natural father, Spinel Graff, was to bring a birthday cake from the bakery on his way home from work that day. It was to be covered in pink flowers and gold piping, at her request. Her neighbourhood friends were to arrive at noon, they were going to play in her new mini pool she had in her backyard

Until then, she sat in front of the best television a gold welder's money could buy and watched as Rouge chased after Haymitch with her axe.

"Mama, look! She's going to win!" Cashmere called out, pointing her tiny, thin finger at the screen.

"Wouldn't that just be spectacular?" Pashmina smiled as she came into the living room, wiping her hands onto a dish towel. "I wonder if we get twice as much for Parcel Day since it's a Quell. I could really use another winter coat."

Cashmere blinked, cocked her head to the side and shrugged. Her two perfect, ribbon wrapped pig tails bounced from side to side as she turned her head back to the action. Haymitch hobbled along as Rouge trailed quickly and heavily behind him. All his earlier swiftness clipped by the slice in his abdomen that Rouge gleefully inflicted.

They were coming out of the thick forest and into a clearing, nothing but a cliff and pink sky. Cashmere scooted closer to the small screen as she watched Haymitch's gray eyes flicker around his immediate surroundings for an exit. District One was going to win again this year! She just knew it!

That's when the phone rang. Pashmina turned back to the kitchen, where the sole phone laid rest on the wall beside the back door. Cashmere could not make out the words her mother was saying, her ears were deaf to anything that was not the crunch of leaves under Rouge's feet.

Cashmere's hands curled around her tinsel party dress as she watched Rouge's axe go flying right at Haymitch, whose gray eyes were wide and as bright as a deer caught in headlights.

"Cas, hunny," Pashmina whispered as she placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "We have to go to the hospital."

"Huh?" Cashmere turned around, her green eyes sparkling, "Why?"

"There was an accident at work, daddy's not well."

All the joy and excitement dulled instantly in her eyes. Raising her arms above her head, Cashmere was picked up and taken to the car.

When they arrived at the hospital, doctors, nurses and families were running every which way. Cashmere gripped onto her mother's hand tightly as Pashmina weaved them through the mass of people towards a bulletin board. It had the names and faces of lots of different men. Scanning row by row, Cashmere didn't see her father up there.

"Mommy, why isn't Daddy here?" Cashmere asked, tugging on her mom's hand. Looking over at her mother, Cashmere saw the redness in her mother's cheeks. The fluorescent lights above them reflected off the tiny tears that travelled down her face.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?"

Sinking to her knees, Pashmina wrapped her shaking arms around her daughter and squeezed. "Mommy, I can't breathe. It hurts." Loosening her grip, Pashmina did not let go.

Cashmere later found out that the force field that lay beyond the cliff caused the axe to bounce back at Rouge, piercing her square between the eyes. She was the second person that did not come home that night.

"Well?" Junius asked again with a raised brow.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Cashmere choked as she tried to sidestep the man. He would not allow it. Grabbing her wrist, he swung her around and forcefully threw her into the nearest wall. The back of her skull throbbed from the force.

"Listen to me you stupid girl. I paid good money to help sponsor you through those ridiculous Games for your dear, old dad. Now, our dear President honoured me with some of your unregimented time and I would very much like to take full advantage of it." He hissed in her ear as one his boney knees cracked open her thighs.

Instinct kicked in as Cashmere's self-defense training came to light. Taking the heel of her foot, she pushed it into the inner most part of his, throwing him off guard while giving her the opportunity for a clothed knee to make contact with his crotch. Falling to the floor with a cry, Cashmere dashed away from Junius Gallus. Hopefully she will never have to see that pervert's face again.

Running against the current stream of Capitol folk as they made their way into the dining hall, Cashmere dashed out the front doors. Rows upon rows of cabs lay waiting in park for drunken citizens to cart around to various destinations. Climbing into the first one she could find, she realized she wasn't alone.

Those hard gray eyes blinked back at her while a strong hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle of scotch. "Guess we're both goin' back to the Training Centre then."

"No, the train station." Cashmere called, her hands turning in on themselves, "I am not spending one more minute here in this disgusting, ill-mannered city."

"Well aren't you a little firecracker, princess," Haymitch roared with laughter, "Still, Training Centre first." He smiled lazily to the driver, ushering him to start the engine.

"Why?! What's there?"

"I don't think Tiff would like you leavin' her behind," he took a swig from his bottle as the cab pulled out of the courtyard and onto the main street.

The drive was quiet as only the car rattled and alcohol sloshed around in the bottle. When the cab arrived, Cashmere dashed from the vehicle first. Not bothering to thank or pay the driver for his services. Bursting through the door of the apartment and into Tiffany's room, Cashmere woke her mentor violently.

"I'll fucking cut you!" Tiffany yelled out into the dark before she realized Cashmere was the one to have shoved her out of bed.

"Get up, we're leaving!" Cashmere growled.

"Don't talk to me like that, show some respect."

"Whatever, I'm sick of this stupid place and its ridiculous people. I was going to go home but Mr. Abernathy wouldn't let me board the train without you coming with me. So here I am. Let's go."

Tiffany's blue eyes widened and she jumped up and out of her sleep wear.

"You have 5 minutes to get changed. I will meet you out front," Tiffany said while throwing on the most comfortable clothes she could find from her closet.

Haymitch was still sitting in the cab when the girls from One arrived, "Evenin' ladies, would'ya like a ride?"

Tiffany rolled her eyes and opened the door, shoving the man over to make room for them, "Going home too, Abernathy?" she asked with a smile, her hand grabbing for the near empty bottle.

He took the final swig of his bottle before throwing it out the open window, "I've wanted to the moment I stepped off that first train."

"When you pass through District 12 on the Victory Tour, make sure you've brought a hospitality token." Tiffany advised as she watched the neutral landscape between the Capitol and District One pass by.

"Hm? Okay." Cashmere agreed, idly playing with her nails.

"Haymitch stuck his neck out for you tonight. I'm not sure why, but you need to thank him for it."

"Sure, okay," she peeled off more of the green polish.

"Do you want to tell me why he would do something like that?" She attempted to make eye contact with Cashmere, but the girl would not pick her gaze up from her lacquered nails.

She shrugged as she started on her right hand now, "I guess he thought it would be better if I didn't regurgitate all over President Snow's marble floor."

Tiffany shook her head and went back to staring out the window.

"Oh! He wanted me to let you know, he didn't want to have to babysit again," Cashmere claimed as she too began to watch the scenery go by. Tiffany laughed lightly before it faded and turned sour.

"What's wrong?"Cashmere glanced up.

"Hm? Oh. Nothing," She looked Cashmere up and down. Even the t-shirt and shorts she changed into accentuate all the right curves on her body. She emitted sex wherever she went and there was no way to control it. She prayed that Snow would have some mercy on this young girl's soul.

Cackling at her own ridiculous thought, she scared Cashmere accidently. Snow having mercy, why did she think that was possible?

They arrived at the station in District One two hours after their departure time. No one was there to greet the Mentor or Victor upon their return. The residents were all tucked cozily into their beds at three o'clock in the morning.

Cashmere inhaled a deep breath of the candy sweet air. The asphalt was cool beneath her bare feet, while her high-heeled shoes dangled from her fingers.

"Ready to go?" Tiffany asked. The cab she called stood not three meters away from the platform. With a whip of her hair, Cashmere smiled more radiantly than her mentor had ever seen before.

"Let's go!"


	2. Chapter 2

They did not move after his father got re-married. The Reitz home was more than large enough to accommodate for its additional members, compared to Pashmina's town house, which would have required bedroom sharing. As Gloss looked down at his sleeping half-sister in her crib, he chuckled. Cashmere would have never agreed to share a room with her. Kissing the forehead of the toddler, he stepped back.

The room that once was covered from top to bottom in a washed out blue, shone a soft salmon colour. The mobile above Twinkle's crib illuminated the room in a tender glow, while the soft lullaby replaced the screams that fill in the gaps in his memory.

He tries not to give into the vivid images that play through his mind. It had not been his place to get involved; arguments were much better left to adults to sort out via their own terms. But she was going to take everything they had, everything his father worked so hard for. To runaway with Capitol trash? He would not let her get away with it! Gloss did not intend to hit her as hard as he had; being only six, it was unlikely for his strength to exceed even his father's. Looking at these polished walls and the brand new carpet beneath his toes, the screaming lessened day by day.

Closing the bedroom door behind him on the way out, he travelled downstairs to the kitchen where his step-mother sat, a cup of tea in her hands.

"There is no need to worry, she made it," Gloss smiled as he sat down beside her, placing a hand over hers, "Cas will be home soon."

Placing her hand on top of his, "Bless you," Pashmina gave her son a wary smile, "Not until she is underneath my roof again will I stop though."

Gloss leaned over and kissed the top of her head, "Go get some rest."

Pashmina shook her head, "It's fine, really. I feel much better this way." She rubbed her other hand nervously along the side of the mug.

"Mother, please," Gloss never begged, but the dark circles that were formulating under the woman's eyes was too much for him to bear.

"That boy… that boy from District Two… he tore my baby girl's hair out of her head," Pashmina sniffled, "She wasn't always the most quiet child growing up, but Gloss; I have never heard her scream like that before." She began to shake as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. They streamed down her face slowly, silently.

"The Capitol made her good as new," he hummed to her, "She looks exactly like when she left. Not a scar or piece of hair out of place."Gloss squeezed his step-mother's hand as she rested her heavy head on his broad shoulder. "Please, just go to bed. Rest with Father; you could both use each other right now."

Gersemi had been coming home late for the last few weeks. He claimed there was paper work piling up, more than usual; more shipments were coming in and out. With everyone enamored with the recent airing of the Games, the time in which goods got processed was much slower.

Gloss knew this not to be true. The import and export business always ran efficiently. Otherwise, Coriolanus Snow himself would see to it and correct the problem. As closely as his father had worked with the Capitol and the other eleven districts of Panem, he knew getting the President involved in these affairs was something much undesired.

Gloss did not pressure his father to come home, if he needed time and space away from the stifling tension in the air, then Gloss had no right to deny his father the luxury. Cashmere may not be his biological daughter, but he raised her from the age of 7. She was as much his daughter as Gloss was his son.

"Alright," Pashmina sighed with a final squeeze of Gloss' hand, "You put Twink to bed, yes?"

"Didn't leave the room until she fell asleep."

"Thank you," she reached up and gave her son a kiss on his cheek, "Please don't stay up too much later. You need your rest too. We have a big day tomorrow. "

Gloss looked at the clock, ten o'clock in the evening, "One more hour."

Pashmina nodded and climbed the stairs, slowly and carefully. Gloss could hear her padded footsteps across the hardwood floors above his head, along with the mumbled sounds of his parents' goodnights.

Taking the mug to the sink, he dumped the tea, rinsed it and placed it into their dishwasher. There were still spots of lighter blue in the darkening sky.

"Where are you?" he mumbled to himself as he re-boiled water in their electric kettle. The clock ticked as the water heated up. Ten o' five.

The clocks in hell must move slower than this. Then again, with no place to be and an infinity to waste, why should they move at any speed at all.

"What time does the train arrive, again?" Pashmina asked, looking over the crowd of Hunger Games enthusiasts as they awaited the train to pull in with their most recent Victor.

Gloss looked down at his watch, "One. It's only twelve thirty now."

Pashmina bit her lip as she fell off her raised toes. "We should at least start to hear it though, right?"

"Mina, darling, please," Gersemi said softly, his hand gripping his wife's shoulder, "Cashmere will get here. You need to have patience." Wringing her hands around themselves, she tried not to click her painted nails.

"Mother, why don't you come sit down," Gloss said as he took one hand off of Twinkle's stroller and patted the empty bench space beside him. Pashmina shook her head as she stepped onto the tips of her toes yet again. Still, there was no train in sight.

Pashmina began to pace as the crowd thinned out. It was well past one o'clock now. The sun fell gently to the west, casting the train station in late afternoon shadows.

"It is never late," she clicked and gnawed on her nails.

"Maybe the train broke down or there was an incident," Gloss offered. Immediately, he wished he had not opened his mouth when his Mother's eyes widened and tears began to shine in them. Gersemi smacked his son upside the head, before wrapping an arm around his wife and guiding her down onto the bench.

Twinkle yawned and Gloss checked his watch. The crowd was non-existent, even Cashmere's Academy friends had gone home by now.

"Wouldn't Luciana at least announce there was a delay?" Pashmina gnawed gently on her thumbnail as she rested her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Maybe it's not to any of our concern, which probably means she's fine, Mina." Gersemi pulled his wife's thin fingers from her mouth and take them in his own, squeezing as hard as he could.

"I can't lose her, Gerry," Pashmina's voice hitched.

"I know," Gersemi tightened his grip and placed a kiss on her greying hairline, "I know."

"Daddy, I wanna go home!" Twinkle whined as she tugged on his shirt and wiggled her bottom in his lap.

"I'm hungy!"

Gersemi squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. The sky had begun to turn a bright red as hues of orange and pink swirled amongst the clouds. It was nine o'clock now, no sign of a train in sight. He sighed; Gersemi did not want to have to call in a favour from Junius Gallus. However, as one of the most crucial coordinators when it came to the imports in the Capitol, as well as his superior, Gallus knew all the right people. He was sure to know exactly where his step-daughter currently resided. Gallus' knowledge came at a price that had been known to be fairly reasonable. Though, what a Capitol citizen considers reasonable does not translate to what a district man would consider reasonable in the slightest.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Gersemi lifted himself from the wooden seat and positioned his daughter onto his hip, "Alright, it is past your bedtime," he smiled at her with a kiss to the nose. Twinkle's face crinkled happily as she laid her blond head on his shoulder.

"Gloss," his son's identical gray eyes turned to him, blurry with exhaustion, "No later than ten. You have training in the morning."

"Yes, Father," Gloss nodded as he stretched out his back, though careful not to move his legs as his mother's head lay rest there. Looking out onto the horizon, he too took notice of the setting sun. The fading gold made his heart ache for Cashmere's safe return even more.

It was midnight when Gersemi lost his patience and picked up his son and wife via the family car. Neither Gloss nor Pashmina protested. Gersemi found it hard to stay angry with his son for his disobedience. Even when his mother passed, Gersemi had not seen Gloss shed this many tears.

It is three o'clock in the morning when Gloss awoke from the sound of the front door opening and closing. Slowly, he took out a knife he kept in his bedside table. One could never be too trusting – it was the first rule the Academy had enforced in him.

The footfalls of the intruder were dainty in the way they inclined the stair case. They were nearly identical to Cashmere's but their usual swiftness was missing. Putting the knife back in the drawer and closing it in a hurry, Gloss pulled the covers back and cracked the door open to the hallway. Only to come no more than centimeters before Cashmere's ghostly pale face. Her hair curled in frizzy wisps around her face, traces of thick make-up lingered in clumps on her lashes and eyelids, her lips ashen in colour.

"G-Gloss?" and her breath lingered with a hint of vomit. Something definitely went wrong. But they could discuss that at a later time. Right now, all that mattered is that Cashmere was standing in front of him. She was finally home, safe and sound.

Wrapping her up in his arms, he squeezed and twirled her around, her natural cooked caramel smell hidden deep within the folds of vomit and scotch. He could not distance himself from her, though, as she had her arms latched around his neck tightly.

"Cas, please let go," Gloss asked softly but she shook her head, "Please, let's get you cleaned up."

She shook her head again and squeezed tighter, "In the morning."

"At least brush your teeth, your breath reeks!"

Cashmere untangled her arms from her brother's neck and dropped to her toes with narrow eyes, "I come home from a near death experience and you care about my oral hygiene?!"

"It's just…"

"Just what?!"

"Keep your voice down!" Gloss' hushed voice cut through the air. Cashmere huffed and pushed her brother aside before walking into his bedroom and underneath the covers of his bed.

"Cas, your breath smells of stomach acid. Please, brush your teeth," Gloss asks again as he closed his bedroom door.

"Fine," she spat. Climbing out from his bed, she took the tooth brush she kept in his washroom and brushed her teeth, tongue and oral cavity thoroughly before snuggling back under the charcoal covers.

"Better?" she breathed in his face.

"Much," and he kissed her nose as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she curled up into the crevice that was big enough just for her.

He rubbed her back in soothing circles, wisps of what remained of the ringlets in her hair curled around his fingers, like old times.

"Gloss…"

"Hm?"

"I missed you," she raised her head and looked up at him. She then planted a kiss on his clothed chest before landing another one on his cheek.

"I missed you too, Cas," he pulled her closer towards him. "So did Mother and Father, even Twinkle looked kind of confused when you were on TV and not at dinner."

Cashmere laughed, "Stupid baby."

"It was cute."

"I'm sure it was," Cashmere admitted with a yawn.

"The Arena changed you, hasn't it?"

Cashmere watched him through heavy lidded eyes, "More than I would ever want you to know."

It is Twinkle's whining that raises Gloss from bed at seven o'clock in the morning.

"Let mom and dad deal with her," Cashmere groaned as he shifts beneath her, brows furrowing. Gloss chuckles, pulls the blanket back and tucks it around his sister's thinner body.

"They need their sleep," Gloss face drops a little as Cashmere cracks open an emerald eye, "They were worried sick about you."

Cashmere closed her eye and rolled out of bed with a sigh, "Fine, I guess I should go get up too. Do pancakes for breakfast sound alright?"

"We have strawberries on the counter," Gloss smiled back as he walked across the hallway where Twinkle was standing up in her crib, arms held up to the sky.

"Good Morning, Twinkle Toes," Gloss cooed and gave the little girl a big kiss on her cheek. "Did you sleep well?" Twinkle nodded while rubbing her eye with one tiny fist. "Your big sister is making strawberry pancakes for breakfast, does that sound good?"

"Yeah!" her tiny voice squeaked as her dimples pushed through her plushy cheeks.

Bouncing her in his arms as they bounded down the stairs, the phone began to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

"Gloss," Cashmere called once he walked into the room, her hands occupied flipping the last pancake, "Can you get that please?"

After placing his sister in her high chair, he answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Um…is Cashmere there?" Luciana's voice lacked all its usual pep.

"One moment," Gloss placed his hand over the receiver, "It's for you." he handed the cord bound phone to his sister.

"Hello? Ah! Luciana, did Tiffany forget to ca-" Cashmere started before he face blanched as white as it was last night, "No! I am not going back! He said if I attended his dinner last night then he'd leave me alone. If he wants to talk to me, he can come find me."

Cashmere's eyebrows creased together, "Slob that… what? OH! Him. Yeah. What about it?"

She began to inspect her nails, "I am taking this seriously, Lucy! Can't we just say I was ill and leave it at that?"

"No?! Why not?" Cashmere seethed, "It's the truth! I wasn't feeling well, so I came home."

"Nothing, we didn't talk about anything. He pretty much showed me to the washroom and rudely told me he couldn't believe I made it through the Games. Nothing happened, Lucy, I swear!"

"I will deal with the President's demands as they come. I survived the Arena. I'm sure whatever that despicable man demands will not be all that horrible. Goodbye, Luciana. I will see you in January." She hung up, completely exasperated.

"Is something wrong?" Gloss asked as both he and Twinkle watched Cashmere with different levels of concern.

"Doesn't matter. I'm home," She sighed, "Hey squirt, the pancakes are cool now, want some?"

Twinkles eyes brightened as she squealed in delight. Cutting up the thick treat, Cashmere brought the plate over and sat beside her sister.

"Do I still have to feed you?"

Twinkle looked at her blankly.

"Do I still need to feed you?"

Twinkle continued to look into Cashmere's eyes before shaking her head and grabbing for the plate, "Fank you."

Cashmere's eyes widened. It had been the first time she had heard her sister speak. Leaning over, she planted a kiss on the toddler's temple, "You're welcome. I love you, you know that."

Twinkle smiled and giggled as she put the first piece of breakfast into her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

art III: If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here, While these visions did appear.

The first snow fall came down in mid-October. The flakes were light and melted the moment they tapped the brown, orange, red and yellow leaves in the pile Cashmere had raked.

"Can I jump in it?" Twinkle asked, her periwinkle eyes eagerly awaiting her sister's approval. The two of them had been working on clearing the large, front lawn most of the day.

With Gloss spending his days attending the Academy and their parents working diligently at their jobs, Cashmere and Twinkle were left to do chores.

Cashmere glanced between her half-sister and all her hard work. All it took was a roll of her shoulders and flick of her wrist, and next thing she knew, Twinkle was giggling up a storm as she flew into the pile of leaves. Two year olds and their simple pleasures.

"Again!" she cried after rolling off of her back and onto her warm, sheep skin boots. Those shiny teeth were irresistible as they stretched into the most charming little smile Cashmere had ever seen. Picking her sister up once more, she threw both of them into the pile of leaves. The little girl squirmed as Cashmere's gloved hands tickled her in the sides.

"Cash-mwere! Stop! Cash!" Twinkle giggled loudly.

"Nuh-uh! You wanted to jump in. I can't help it if the tickle monster wants you out of her leaves." Cashmere gripped a little harder into her sister's body; she could feel the small ribs surrounding her fingers.

"Ouch! Cash-mwere!" Twinkle whined, her small elbows pushing at Cashmere's thin sides, "Get off!"

She did not. Cashmere continued to dig her thin fingers and pointed nails into her sister's chubby body unconsciously harder. It was only when Twinkle began to wail and tears fell down her face that Cashmere truly removed her hands from her sister.

The toddler's wails were sharp and loud as they rang through open windows and bounced off the bricks of homes. Fellow Victors' popped their heads out their windows, their ears tracking the scream. Cashmere could feel the multi-colourful eyes honed in on her, evaluating her. What is the little prissy Victor going to do next? Twinkle squirmed out of her sister's touch, the moment Cashmere tried to lift her out of the pile of leaves. Then the crying amplified to be twice as loud and shrill.

"HELP! CASHMERE!" Kaiser screamed until his voice cracked as he swam against the current.

It was no use though; there were only four of them left in the Games, Syn and Julia working together to kill off her and Kaiser before they could kill them. The District Two teammates had chased them towards the river. Kaiser the stronger swimmer took his chance and drove into the rushing water, attempting to escape. What he had not anticipated were the creatures that dwelled in the river.

"CASHMERE PLEASE! HELP!" he continued to shrill as the 16 foot alligator mutt slithered its way towards him at an alarming speed. However, she could not move since the thick and heavy mud beneath her feet suctioned her to the ground. Attempting to lift one foot at a time, she found the mud had a quicksand like quality, bringing her down further every time she struggled.

"KA—AH!" Her answer was muffled with a shriek as Syn, with his grip of iron, pulled out a third of her matted blond curls from the root. She fell to her knees, her clothes soaking with mud and a dirty, hefty boot crunched down onto her spine, popping her spinal discs out of place.

"CA-CA- CASH - MERE!" Kaiser yelled over gulps of murky water. "CA-!"He tried again to grab her attention. As Syn pulled her head up and towards him, with what remained of her hair, the mutt sank its 80 teeth into Kaiser's thigh and ripped his leg clean off his body.

It was a battle of screeching between the two of them until Kaiser's canon sounded. It was music to everyone's ears.

Her fingers slipped from around Twinkle's waist, placing the girl gently onto the pile of leaves. Crouching down around herself, fists balled into her eye sockets, Cashmere rocked herself on the balls of her feet. She could not have saved him that day. It was her life or his, eventually he would have lost. It was better this way. It is better this way.

"It's better this way," she cooed to herself. He's in a better place. They both could not have gotten out of there alive. It was impossible. "It's better this way, Kai, it's better."

"Cas," Gloss' silky smooth voice filled her head, replacing all the dull sounded screams. She felt his strong hand relaxingly rub deep circles into her back, as well as calloused finger tips rub the ends of her hair between them. "It's much better this way. You're home. You're safe. Kai's… safe too. It's over."

Her eyes darted up to meet Gloss' shimmering silver ones. The grief, sorrow and helplessness tugged at the edges of his irises, causing her stomach to curdle. Uncurling her fingers from around themselves, she rested one finger at a time into her brother's gleaming, outstretched hand. The smile that graced her lips happened without even her knowledge; pushing all her weight down into his clasped palm, this time she found herself not tripping over her feet.

"Are you alright now?"

Cashmere shook her wispy curls, "As alright as I'm going to be today. Where's Twinkle?"

"She's fine; Mom came out and grabbed her after you let her go just now."

Cashmere sighed with relief as she rested her head on Gloss' shoulder, "Thank you."

"You have impeccable timing, you know," Gloss chuckled a little before he kissed the top of her head. "I had just walked through the gate when it happened,"

"Well aren't I lucky?"

The rest of the evening was quiet. When Gersemi came home for dinner that night, he greeted his wife in the sunroom with the expected kiss. Where he would have given Cashmere a kiss as well, he just smiled carefully at her and placed his knobby hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"Can you go make me some tea, Cas? It's been a long day." She returned his smile and nodded. Before leaving the room she placed a short kiss on his hollow cheek.

"Honey and milk?"

"That would be perfect."

No more, no less was said. Gersemi did not need to ask inane questions to piece together that something had gone horribly wrong today. Since Cashmere's return, Twinkle had spent a great deal of her waking hours in her oldest sister's presence. It was rare for her to be wrapped in Gloss' arms watching a movie and eating popcorn.

So he sat there with his girls, his steaming tea in his hands and his thoughts straining to stay on the current situation. All this turmoil, this was not something Gersemi ever remembered the Academy preparing them for.

To his grave misfortunate, Gersemi was the one to silence the blaring house phone at seven o'clock the following morning. His face lost its colour as all the sultry, but authoritative 'good morning' found its way deep inside his ear drum and echoed off the walls of his skull.

"Good – Morning," Gersemi coughed ever so lightly.

"Starting your day so soon?" a gentle cough on the other end mirrored his own.

"Yes, Mr. President, sir. I could not get the day's preservatives out to the grocers if I didn't."

"Very well, my son and I look forward to that delicious organic apricot jam, in those quaint glass bottles my wife used to adore, for brunch." President Snow coughed gently once more, "Speaking of brunch, I have decided to invite Cashmere to grace our table. May I speak with her in order to pass on the invitation?"

"One moment, Sir, I will go wake her." Gersemi carefully placed the phone on hold, leaving the receiver facing down on the kitchen counter. He found Cashmere curled up, yet again, against her brother, her blonde hair splashed over the pillow in waves while her smooth face rested peacefully on his chest. Having to wake her was cruel.

"Cashmere," Gersemi whispered and nudged her ever so gently, taking a step back every time. "President Snow is on the phone, he'd like to speak to you."

Her eyes shot open, giving him a start and unconsciously causing him to stumble backwards a few steps. She had thrown the black converter and bound down the stairs, nearly tumbling down them head first, without realizing who had woken her. It seemed not to matter to her.

Following along behind her, at a much more leisurely pace, Gersemi stood outside the doorway, ear open. He did not believe in eavesdropping, he normally respected his children's space, but when they receive phone calls from the President, personally, that is a whole 'nother story.

"Good Morning, Mr. President, sir," Cashmere politely greeted into the receiver, her voice void of all implications that she had woken up no more than five seconds prior, "How may I help you?" There was a short pause, what Gersemi assumed was the President putting forth his invitation. "Eleven thirty? Yes, I can be in the Capitol on the next train. Yes, sir, see you soon. Goodbye." Hanging up the receiver, Cashmere wasted no time in preparation. Swiftly, she passed by her father, up the stairs and the water for the shower started moments later.

Having a second cup of tea, Gersemi waited for his daughter. As he placed the mug down in the titanium basin, the clacking of heels had touched the kitchen tiles. She was dressed in a stark white, backless, lace summer dress with a silver shawl covering her shoulders and three quarters of her arms. Her face was free of blemishes as they were all covered with a thick powder, which made her vibrant eyes sparkle.

"You look wonderful, Cashmere." He smiled. She barely smiled back as she crossed the room towards him. Planting a kiss on his cheek, Gersemi felt the smallest amount of gloss touch his skin.

"Is it too much trouble if I ask you to drop me off at the station? Will you be late for work?" She was off to see the President, and yet Cashmere stood before him, worried about his schedule. He could not be more proud.

"Of course not, it is on the way anyways."

"Thank you," this time, she smiled a little more.

"I should be home for dinner," she called back to her father as she exited the car the moment they arrived at the platform. "If I am not, I will make sure to make a phone call, alright? Please, tell Mom and Gloss not to worry. I will be fine."

"Of course, my dear. Have a safe trip." With one final kiss, they parted ways and Cashmere boarded the train. That sinking feeling in his chest cleared rather quickly as Gersemi drove away. Cashmere was going to come home again and again. She was a Victor. Victors survived everything.

The two hour trip south was silent. With not a soul to chat with, Cashmere found herself watching the passing scenery absent-mindedly. There was nothing to think, consider, worry or contemplate. There was only what President Snow needed of her. Her nightmares did not matter, they were not real. Kaiser was not alive to join her in her home in Victor's Village, where they laughed over a cup of coffee as they watched Twinkle play in the yard. Kaiser could not have Snow rip his life away from him because she was a careless girl and ignored him. He had no life left to give.

She was thankful for the lack of bodies of water the mountains had. Cashmere would not have been able to keep from crying if she saw one.

Luciana and Nero greeted her on the platform when the train arrived in the Capitol. She had an hour to spare before brunch was to begin.

"I told you, you should have come back right away," Luciana tisked as her nails drummed gently against her clipboard. Cashmere pursed her glistening lips, on the ready to part so that she could rip the escorts head from her neck with her teeth.

"It's better this way, though," Nero interjected before she lost control, "I have been informed that Caius will be joining you today. That alone is a treat!"

"Caius? Caius who?"

Nero chuckled as he ran a hand through his sculpted bright red hair, "Caius Snow, darling. The President's youngest son. Beautiful man if I do say so myself; quite the heartbreaker and Hunger Games enthusiast." Cashmere was not sure if it was the bright sun as it bounced off Nero's hair, or if the man applied too much rouge but his face was nearly as red as his hair. Luciana shot the stylist a stony look. He most likely was blushing then. "What? Am I really not allowed to toot my own horn? He asks for me specifically every time but even without my expertise he is dashing."

Luciana rolled her eyes, "Only someone sleeping with him would say that. I would never put my trust blindly into a national playboy, especially one with a reputation like Caius'."

Nero snorted, "I wish I was sleeping with him, honey. He won't lay a finger on me no matter how hard I try," Nero wrinkled his nose as ran his hand through his hair again,"Cashmere, regardless of how I am personally acquainted with him, he is wonderful company. He is courteous and a true gentleman." Nero proclaimed proudly. "I am happy to work with him. His taste is simple. Though, I would never say no if he wished to go above and beyond. Then again, this is only brunch. Maybe I will make a suggestion at his next function." Cashmere watched as Nero sunk into a world of designing, his eyes going blank and feet misguiding him.

Luciana continuously shook her head as she pushed Cashmere and Nero into the car, "I suppose we don't need to prep you before you go. You did make yourself rather presentable before you arrived."

"Your faith in me is most reassuring," Cashmere rolled her eyes.

"Oh, getting snippy now. You stay away from Mr. Abernathy. I am not a masochist like Effie; I have no tolerance for crude behaviour."

"I know, Lucy. Don't have to tell me twice."

When they arrived at the mansion, Avoxs were littered all along the front yard, scurrying in the entrance hall as well as up and down flights of stairs. They carried large buckets of cleaning chemicals, mops, dust rags and sponges in their too small arms. They crinkled like paper under her curious gaze. She had never seen an Avox truly at work before. Taking her eyes off them, Nero pushed them deeper into the Mansion. More paintings decorated the walls and supposed 'famous' sculptures lay rest in the corners of hallways; collecting dust. That is until an Avox comes and wipes and polishes it clean.

Nero escorted her into the dining room, where the President sat at the head of the table, papers splayed out in front of him as a phone rests between those boney fingers of his. Eyebrows knit together as his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. She would definitely need to be on her absolute best behaviour today.

"Do not fight with me, you fool! Just make sure it happens!" and he hung up the phone, loudly, causing the Avox who held the machine in his hands to nearly fall forward. Cashmere watched as the flicker of tension in the air evaporated and absorbed into the ground.

"So nice to see you again, Ms. Reitz, I hope the trip up was pleasant." Snow turned to her, the disinterest in his eyes defying his tone.

"Very much so. Thank you for inviting for brunch, it's quite the honour."

Snow smiled, those puffed lips of his spilling with blood. It did not last long, this moment of decomposing. With a short wipe of his lips, hard lines etched themselves back onto his face as false delight became his mask once more.

"I am sorry you had to see me like that. Now, all we're waiting on is that inconsiderate son of mine. If only he would have chosen a better time to be entertained." Snow breathed out, exasperated. Shifting his work into a messy pile, he handed the papers to a waiting Avox. "Just leave them on my desk. Do not file them, do not look at them. You are to be in there no longer than 30 seconds, do I make myself clear?" The President seethed. The Avox nodded his head repeatedly before leaving the room diligently.

Cashmere plastered on the best smile she could, using just the appropriate number of teeth.

"Please, child, sit down. You standing around is making me anxious," Snow ushered her into a chair, that a third Avox had pulled out for her at the ready. "You look marvelous today though, was Nero responsible for your choice in outfit?" He glanced up at the stylist and gave Nero the largest grin she had ever seen on him.

"No sir, but Nero did make the outfit." She claimed. The President's smile did not shift a fraction, his dark brown eyes boring wholes into his skull.

"Very nice. Why don't you go help that lazy, worthless son of mine out of bed before I rip that reptile's neck open and see how she likes dying from a jugular wound?"

"Yes, of course sir! Right away sir!" Nero scampered off and out of the room.

Snow sighed, "Never have children, my dear. Their selfishness alone can be the death of you."

"Twinkle can be quite demanding, sometimes I wished my parents would spoil her less."

"Isn't it you who does the spoiling though?"

"Hardly. I had her do chores with me yesterday."

"Ah, yes. I'm so sorry about what happened. I do hope your mental state has stabilized."

Cashmere forced her smile not to falter at his forced sympathy, "For the moment, I am alright. Thank you."

"I'm glad to hear that. Wouldn't want the perfect princess to be breaking down at impromptu opportunities, now would we?"

"No sir. It is all under control," At least for the time being.

Avoxes pushed their way through the swinging doorway, connected directly to the kitchen. Golden carts were pushed beyond the doors, carrying assorted jams, district breads, bagels, cakes, fish and chicken spreads, as well as every flavour of coffee and tea Cashmere could think of.

"Caius is incredibly fickle. He can never decide what he wants. It's tiresome really. We're much too old for these games." Snow sighed. He took the napkin from the Avox's hand and folded it over his lap. A steaming biscuit was placed on his plate, while a bowl full of crab salad lay in front of him, knife at the ready for spreading it on the baked bread.

The same Avox then came over to her, the girl's brown eyebrows raising in question as she held a napkin in her hand. Cashmere shook her head and took the piece of cloth and placed it into her lap gently. It was so hard to choose what to have first. Assortments of sliced and rolled meats arrived next on a trolley; there was no doubt in her mind why Caius would be so indecisive.

There was a crash in the distance, sparking Cashmere's back to stiffen and eyes open wide. The uneven steps of a person came closer towards them, until finally the grand doors of the main entrance way flew open. The man looked undeniably frazzled. His suit jacket lay open for the world to see his crisp, white dress shirt hanging loosely over his exposed chest. Black slacks hung lose around his hips, his white belt loosely clasped around it. It had looked as if he had thrown everything together without much care of how presentable he was. With a scoff, Cashmere's emerald eyes sweeped back up his exposed body, to his identical bright green eyes that shifted frantically around the room and his head of pristine snow white bed… Oh!

"You!" Cashmere rudely pointed at him. Caius' eyes locked on hers, the hazy frantic expression honing in on her. His own realization of her presence seemed to put him into a much larger panic. Caius nearly tripped over his own, untied shoelaces to get to Cashmere. "I saw you last month, at the din-" but he would not let her finish. Having made his way across the room, he towered over her seated body. Head bent low, his thick, manly hand cupped her chin ever so slightly as his full pink lips crashed into hers. Teeth and all. She blinked once, twice, until her eyelids closed and she kissed him back. Definitely not the most refined kiss, but she has had much worse.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, darling," Caius' voice was sultry even with its tinge of morning raspiness. "If I knew you were our guest of honour, I would have met you at the station." Panic and uncertainty melted away and hid behind a thin layer of charm. Cashmere found herself giggling softly under her breath. Capitol people, how easily they believe they fool others.

"Your tardiness is unacceptable," Snow calmly directed to Caius, who had properly buttoned and straightened up his clothes.

"I apologize wholeheartedly, Father. Last night's … happenings did not end as swiftly as I had hoped."

Wiping the crumps of biscuit off his mouth, Cashmere felt the atmosphere change once more upon Snow looking directly at his son. Searing hatred whirled around them like electric currents inside a force field. "I would put your head on a spit, if you were anything but my son, Caius." The President spat at him, rising from his chair and throwing his splotched red napkin onto the empty plate. "You are to hand me your report after your meeting with Ms. Reitz. You have no later than tomorrow morning to do so, is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, Father," Caius nodded, the fear seeping back onto his face. Cashmere watched as the President gave his son one last, long look before he left the dining room. Not even one of the many Avoxes so much as blinked after the President left. It was not until Caius let out deep breath that everyone got back to work.

"Sincerely, I am truly sorry I was so late. Sometimes Father does things so short notice that even I can't prepare for it." He gently smiled at her. "Congratulations on your victory this year! You and Syn put on one hell of a show! It was nearly impossible for me to take my eyes away from the screen. My friends had collected quite the sum of money from their bets after you pierced his dirty, rotten heart with that sword. We celebrated for 3 days!"

Cashmere looked up at him, fork idly resting between her fingers with the smallest bit of Eggs Benedict sitting on the prongs. His eyes were glowing with thrill. She could feel a mixed sense of pride and disgust trickle through her veins, "Thank you. You are not allowed to bet in the Games, Mr. Snow?"

"Please don't call me that, it's so formal. Caius is best." He wrinkled his perfectly sculpted nose and served himself deviled eggs and a salmon slathered bagel. "To answer your question, no I can't. I wish I could though, but as the Assisting Director of Player Affairs, I am not allowed to dirty my hands and affect the odds. Fate is fate, my dear, nothing can change that." Caius' face had dropped a fraction, his mask of contentment switching out for sorrow. Cashmere may have caught even a hint of shame in his voice, but she was not certain. "But that is not anything your gorgeous head needs to worry about. How have you been this morning? Your family doing well?"

"I'm quite well, thank you. I believe my family is doing well. My mother seems less anxious than she had been after I came home the night of the party. Though Gloss is a little more on edge, he seems to follow Twinkle and I around."

Caius' chuckle filled every corner of the room, "Gloss, he's a very interesting fellow, isn't he. Always so attentive towards you, so understanding. It's odd really, that he cares so much about a young woman who he's not related to by blood. He looked unnaturally flustered when Caesar interviewed your family during the quarter finals of your games."

"We're the other's best friend, of course. It's normal." She narrowed her eyes at him. A sigh parted through his lips as he rested his head on a set of curled knuckles.

Caius other arm reached across the table, placing his hand on top of Cashmere's, "If you say so, darling," he brought the hand up to his lips, "That means more for me then."

"What about Enobaria?"

Caius' raised his brow and pulled his hand away from Cashmere's, "Oh, we're just well acquainted, that's all."

"So it's just colleagues having sex?"

"Nothing more, nothing less," Caius shrugged. "She frightens me too much to be anything more. Enobaria also lacks a sort of elegance." He took a sip from his coffee that lay resting in his other hand, "Having her as my date to formal functions, especially with those teeth of hers," He shuttered, "would leave a sour taste even in my mouth."

"Some gentleman you are," She huffed, "Sleeping with women and then tossing them aside. I will have to inform Nero he is sadly mistaken about his crush."

Caius blinked. He got from his chair and waltzed around to Cashmere's side of the table. He really was quite tall and now with his suit fitting properly across his upper body, he looked like one of those sculptures she passed by in the hallway. All beautiful smooth lines and chiselled features.

He kneeled down in front of her, bringing him down to her eye level. Those manly hands of his that had touched her face early that morning, wrapped themselves under her jaw. His thumbs stroked her cheeks as his head tilted ever so slightly.

"You don't know," he whispered against her shinning lips, "None of them told you." She pushed her lips into his, her hands gently keeping his in place. "Now that's…not fair." Caius kissed her with more power, pulling her closer towards him. "Let me show you around the Capitol, Cashmere. There are so many gorgeous places that so many Victors don't get a chance to see." He pulled away and pushed himself onto his feet. "I don't want you to associate the Capitol with all your negative experiences. It truly can be a wonderful place!"

Cashmere nodded before she realized exactly what she was agreeing too, "You have witchcraft in your lips, did you know that?"

Caius chuckled as he guided her out of her chair, "Today is the first I've heard of it."

By the end of their day, Cashmere retracted her ill thoughts of Caius. Nero had been right; he was nothing short of a gentleman as he weaved her in and around the busy streets of the Capitol. He took her shopping down the accessories district. The windows were filled with trinkets she knew were only handcrafted by those people from home. They seemed to cost the most amount of money, though in comparison to the cheap knock offs Caius pointed out to her, even the citizens from the Capitol cut corners where they could.

He took her through: the largest botanical garden in the Capitol and bought her a large bouquet gardenia; through the zoo, where mutts not genetically engineered to be rabid lay rest under the midday sun and along the base of the Rocky Mountains where she got her first gulp of truly clean air.

"Is there somewhere you would like to go for dinner? A type of food that you have been craving for a while?" Caius asked from across the way at the café table they occupied. They had stopped to take a short rest and enjoy the budding night life of café terraces. Cashmere shook her head as she sipped her coffee.

"Today has been absolutely amazing, but I really should get home for dinner."

"I insist, please! The dinner menus in some of these restaurants fail in comparison to home cooking of any sort."

Cashmere stared at him pointedly, "How would you know? You've never had your mother cook you a hot meal before have you?"

Hurt clouded his eyes and the smile fell from his lips for only a brief moment before he chuckled, "My darling, Cashmere. You haven't had a meal until a five star chef has made you a meal."

Cashmere sighed, "Do you have a phone I can borrow, I need to call home."

"Tonight has been absolutely incredible," Cashmere thanked him. Her arm looped inside of his, gripping onto the thick fabric of his suit jacket while the other held a bouquet of gardenia. He had walked her down to the train station, upon her request. Staying the night in the Presidential mansion after spending the day being treated on his dollar was too much already. Cashmere had no wish to impose, plus, she would rather sleep in her own bed. Caius may have been the most enjoyable company she had in awhile, but she did not want to give him the wrong impression of her. She was in no way an easy catch.

"It was my pleasure, truly. It really is a shame you won't stay." Was that a pout forming on his lips?

"Hopefully we will see each other after the Victory Tour. If not then, most definitely at the 62nd Games," Cashmere smiled. She honestly did look forward to it now.

"Sounds like a very promising plan." Caius murmured, placing the thousandth and first kiss onto her lips that day. "Safe trip home." He smiled as he touched his forehead to hers. Cashmere hummed in agreement, the hazy spell his lips entranced her in fading slowly.

Having timed the arrival perfectly, Cashmere boarded the train at exactly half past ten. She did not know how he did it, but she finally understood how Nero was so enamoured with this man. Caius Snow really was something else.

The following morning, Caius practically pirouetted down the hallway to his father's office, nearly crinkling the file folder containing his report from his meeting yesterday. His knuckles barely drummed on the door, when he pushed himself inside the office.

"Good Morning, Father," he chimed, this time spinning in place. The President did not look up from his paper work.

"Do you have the report?"

"Yes sir," Caius smiled and slipped into the armchair adjacent from the desk. The President snatched the folder from his son's hands and flipped through it quickly.

"Everything went according to plan I'm assuming?" The President asked. He had put the folder on top of another set of folders that were being filed by two Avoxes.

"Not quite," if anything, Caius was truthful, especially when it came to his father. Lying also proved to have dire consequences. "I took her to the train. She had no desire to spend the night. I feel that makes her all the more interesting though. The harder to catch, the more thrilling in the end."

The President looked up at his son and leaned back against the soft leather of his oversized chair. "Is that so? Then she has not been informed about her situation?"

Caius mirrored his Father's hard, blank stare, "I will inform her, personally, of the services she is required to perform for the Capitol."

"Very well."

"Father," Caius started, shifting nervously in his seat, "May I be so bold as to ask for myself to be her first client?"

"Caius, my beloved son," Snow smiled in a way that was as endearing as he could be, "Happy 29th Birthday."

"Thank you, Father."


	4. Chapter 4

Cashmere found herself spending more nights in her brother's bed then her own with each passing night in their new home. The dreams of: Syn, Julia, Kaiser, Kleia, Chintz, the boy from Eight she skewered along with the girl from Nine during the blood bath; the pair from Eleven who she snuck up on with Kaiser and slaughtered; the alligator mutts as they swam towards her while Syn held her down, woke her up screaming and in hot, heavy tears. Gloss was the only one who could pull his fingers through her hair and sooth her.

When January rolled around, her prep team bursting through the door, Floriana shrieked at the state of Cashmere's skin. Lose, baggy around the eyes and discoloured.

"Oh, child! What has happened to you?!" Floriana squeaked as she gripped Cashmere's face in her hands, "Have you not been sleeping well?"

"I haven't really been sleeping at all," She spat, pulling back.

"Poor baby, well don't worry! We'll make it all better!" Floriana flounced and giggled as the other members of her prep team set up station in the kitchen.

"Wouldn't the bathroom be better? It's much larger and you'll have a better sink to work with," Cashmere recommended tiredly.

"Unnecessary my dear. Your hair is already washed and waxed from all the undesirable areas. There really is only makeup and styling. Covering those dark circles will be a bit of a challenge though."

"I insist," Pashmina said as she stepped into the kitchen, her daughter sitting on her hip. "I will need the kitchen later and our bathroom is plenty big enough for four people."

"Very well then," Floriana puffed and closed up her makeup bag, "upstairs we go, darlings!"

"Let me finish my cup of coffee first." Cashmere said as Floriana began to drag her up out of her chair.

"Fine," the Capitol woman called as she stomped her tiny feet up and out of the room.

Cashmere placed her head back down on the kitchen table as she firmly gripped her coffee cup.

"I really wish it wasn't today," Pashmina sighed as she placed her two year old daughter into her high chair.

"You have Gloss to help out," Cashmere croaked while sitting up, her dull green eyes rolling to the ceiling.

"Gloss does so much already; it's not fair to keep asking him."

"Mom, this is important! You know it's important."

"Well of course, but still, doesn't mean I don't wish you could stay here with us on Twinkle's special day."

Cashmere huffed as took a sip from her cold coffee. She had been up since six this morning after having risen from a nightmare starring Kaiser. Now that it was noon, she was not surprised it tasted terrible.

Pashmina smiled warily, "Be careful while you're away."

"Yes Mother," Cashmere kissed her mother and poured her awful coffee down the titanium sink. She lethargically climbed the stairs. One step, two steps, why did they have to get assigned a home with so many stairs?

The bathroom was clouded in a smoke of perfumes, while every inch of counter space was covered in assorted makeup products.

"Oh!" Cashmere called as she rushed into the room; "I love this!" she picked up a bottle of fix.

Floriana giggled, "Darling that is your bottle. I love the way it covers. It's really nice to know that your taste in these things hasn't changed."

Cashmere smiled as she flicked her hair gently around her neck and over her face, "Just because I killed six people and don't live in the Capitol, doesn't mean I don't enjoy finer things."

Her prep team blinked.

"Of course not," Nero drawled in her ear as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Stiffening beneath his touch, she relaxed too slowly for his liking, "You are our Cashmere after all. Only the finest things for you, my dear."

Turning around to meet his red-orange eyes, she came across his red lips stretched into a warm smile. "It's so nice to see a familiar face again," She mumbled into his shoulder upon giving him a hug.

"It's nice to see you too, Cash. How about we get you all fixed up now? Show Panem what they have been missing out on," Nero's smile remained as he detached her from him and pushed her gently towards Tuscan, the only male prep team member. He blushed and stuttered as his fingertips just barely touched her skin. She may wake up in terror but she was not fragile.

Sitting herself down in the chair, the team got to work. Gentle hands brushed over scar-less skin and trailed through her straight blond hair. She gritted her teeth when Tuscan twirled the curling iron a little too tight on top of her head; clenched her teeth when Floriana decided to wax every straggling hair off her body. However, she was no longer able to bite her tongue when Maria stopped short, sending Cashmere flying to the ground.

She whipped around. Jumped to her feet. Grabbed for the cooling iron on the counter and tackled Maria to the ground. Green irises flickering with vehement ferocity as Cashmere held the steel to the prep member's thyroid cartilage. She readily ignored Maria's increasing fear as she dug the curling iron further into her throat.

"Cashmere!" Nero called as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her off Maria. Floriana took the curling iron out of her grip.

"What?! That bitch needs to watch where she's going!"

Nero shook his head and held onto the squirming Cashmere tighter as he took her out of the room. Dumping her in her dust caked bedroom, Nero closed the door. "When you're ready to be a human being again, let me know."

Cashmere slide back against the wooden door and began to cry.

"It's pwetty!" Twinkle gasped as she watched her brother ice the vanilla cake.

"Wanna help?" He asked, handing her a spatula.

"Yeah!" She cried, but within 5 minutes she was already eating the icing off the utensil. Gloss could not help but laugh as he took it away from the little girl.

"Icing belongs on cake, then in your tummy," he poked her as she pouted with her bottom lip protruding as far as it could go.

"Hey, don't look at me like that!" Gloss said with a wrinkle in her nose. The two began to pout at each other before he tickled her in the sides, getting her laughing.

"It really is a treat to see that she isn't a hindrance to the whole family," The voice of their dear president called from the doorway. Twinkle stopped laughing instantly as the atmosphere swirled in the change of one man's presence. "You really are quite adorable, I must say, Twinkle. And yet, Cashmere still has her reserves about you." Snow strides over to the toddler and taps a boney finger to her flat nose.

"She's warming up. One day at a time," Gloss pulled Snow's attention away from his sister.

"Yes, of course. You would know all about her struggles, Mr. Reitz, wouldn't you?" Snow hummed. "Actually, you know far more about all your families' troubles then you should."

Gloss narrowed his eyes at the man who continued to stand their smiling and poking at the young girl's nose. "I would think after your incident that Gersemi would be more wary of you getting involved in large family matters. I guess not."

Gloss tightened his hold around the spatula and successfully broke it half. Twinkle jumped and Snow smirked, "Still have that spark left in you. It's such a shame your Academy scores are not at par with the top contenders, you would have made a wonderful addition to the Games."

That's when the clicks and claps of heels against hardwood floor echoed off the walls. Useless banter followed as Capitol folk cheered and scorned the latest fashion faux-pas.

"I wouldn't dare joke with you, Floriana. In District 11, some citizens do their hair in small braids, all down their back. They say it helps keep it out of their face in the fields. I should show you sometime, it is quite beautiful." Nero's hands shot up in the air, as to defend his claim.

"But how can something be beautiful without a jewel or feather protruding from it?" Tuscan asked, sheepishly. Nero chuckled as he came into the kitchen. He had opened his mouth to reply when those red-orange eyes of his widened instead.

"Mr. President, sir!" Nero bowed his head. The prep team hung their heads low, leaving Cashmere to remain standing tall and with a look of horror blending into her tired face.

"Now that the cavalry has arrived, maybe I can borrow Ms. Reitz for a brief moment of her time. Should not be more than 10 minutes."

"Of course, Sir!" Nero stepped aside to let their leader pass into the hallway.

Placing his hand on the small of Cashmere's back, he guided her into the empty living room. Her father's books lined the shelves along each wall. Taking a seat on leather sofa, Snow's bright eyes glanced around the book shelves. "It really is nice to see you again, Ms. Reitz. It truly does sadden me that I have come for business. I truly did wish to have a proper conversation with your father, he's such a wonderful man."

"Is my father is some sort of bind?" Cashmere asked carefully, her hands clenching.

"Gracious no, dear child. But you certainly are," Snow's face fell, lips tugged into a much more unpleasant frown, "I have been very patient with you and Caius. He has promised to relay to you the duties in which you are obligated to fill to the Capitol. It seems he has yet to fulfil his promise to me and I do not appreciate that, especially since he has requested a rather hefty gift in return."

Cashmere shuffled into the chair beside him, her hands lay rest in her lap. She tried not to let anything show beneath the makeup. "And what does his punishment have to do with me?"

Snow's scowled and leaned back into the black leather, "I would lay a hand in scorn on my own son without good reason, Ms Retiz. Please take this seriously."

Her hands began to shake in her lap. She tried to curb the jitters as they pulsed through her, but one clenched fist over another was no help. "So, what is it that would like me to do?"

The smirk grew wider on his wrinkling face, "Grace those that bought your life in the Arena with a few short hours of your time."

Cashmere smiled brightly, relaxing in her seat, "That sounds reasonable."

"Beautiful! Now," The President reached into a briefcase Cashmere had not realized he had with him and pulled out a manila envelope, "this is your contract containing your terms and conditions. You are to sign your name at the end of each clause and leave your thumb print on the very last signature."

He handed her the large stack of papers along with a red pen. As she flipped through the pile, she realized it contained blank pages except for the single clause on the final page.

Regardless of how in which the person or persons wish to monopolize the Victor's time, it will be endured with full and complete cooperation at minimum. Every and all complaints addressed to the Presidential office in respect to the Victor's performance will result in severe consequences towards said Victor.

Cashmere looked up at the President. He looked at stone cold as he did that afternoon he had brunch with her and his son.

"This is awfully vague, sir."

Snow's lips curled into a smirk, "Well, I cannot lay out on paper exactly what every patron you'll entertain will do to you."

"And what if I choose not to sign this contract?" Cashmere asked as she twirled the pen between her fingers.

The President grinned at her. His blood soaked breath causing Cashmere's nostrils to flare as he leaned in close to her, "That depends entirely on you and how much you would like to share your friend, Mr. Abernathy's, fate of being alone for the rest of his pathetic life."

Cashmere gripped around the pen harder, the polish on her nails chipping. The rouge painted on her cheeks was the only substance that gave colour to her face.

Snow puffed his blood soaked breath in her face. "You see I have been graciously informed of those walks through the park your mother and sister go on each afternoon. It would be such a tragedy if little Twinkle walked off on her own and could not be found."

Cashmere laughed emptily, "Neither Mother nor Twinkle would be so careless as to just let such a thing happen."

"Are you so sure? Twinkle seems to like play with the ducks down at Tinsel Pond doesn't she? A shame if she fell in the water when your mother wasn't looking."

"You wouldn't."

"I would and I could."

"She's only three."

Snow chuckled, "An eye for an eye, Cashmere."

It felt like every disk in her spine had popped out of their alignment, again, as she fell back into her sofa. "I just have to sign the contract then? None of this will occur if I sign it?"

The President rose from the seat, his own shoes tapping as they made their way towards the doorway, "Along with the contentment of my people. The more satisfied they are, the happier I am and the more secure your family will be from harm. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Reitz?"

"Yes sir," she stated.

"As the contract says, one complaint from your clients that you did not meet their expectations, you and your family will suffer greatly. I will make sure Twinkle will be the first. " With that, President Snow walked right past her and out the study room door. Cashmere could barely make out the conversation being had in the room down the hall. Her mind was swirling much too rapidly to focus on anything else, other than Twinkle would drown. Placing her head between her knees, Cashmere took in large gulps of air. Everything was going to be alright. She just could not fail. Then again, there has been no hardship that she had ever failed to complete to the best of her abilities. How much more difficult could pleasing Capitol people be?

As Tiffany suggested, Cashmere brought along a carton full of house warming gifts for the previous Victors onto the train while travelling the districts.

"Ice breaking is incredibly important. You will be spending countless years alongside some of these people, best not to leave them with a poor impression," Luciana claimed tautly as her long, jewel encrusted nails tapped in staccatos against her clipboard.

Cashmere was well aware of the prosperities of Capitol beauty products. Powders and foundations were produced in the softest of shades and tones, since the covering of blemishes, wrinkles and other skin abnormalities was not something that which the Capitol people were concerned with. They paid too much in plastic surgery, to bother with covering their imperfections with temporary solutions. Therefore, the dark circles and creases in Luciana's normally flawless face were noticeable. Maybe Snow had already begun to make the lives of those she cared about, miserable.

"Lucy, if you'd like, you can rest. We won't get there until noon tomorrow anyways," Cashmere offered, reaching out for the clipboard in her escort's hand.

"It's fine, really," Luciana snapped the clipboard back. "There are just … a few last things I'd like to get in order before hand."

"If you insist," Cashmere sighed. "By the way, where is Tiffany?"

Luciana looked up from her notes for a brief second, "In the Capitol, performing more duties as your mentor. She will meet us in Seven."

"How'ya likin' the place so far, princess?" Haymitch slurred as he gripped a bottle of white liquor in one hand, fork in the other. The train had arrived in District Twelve that afternoon. The speeches were long, tedious and held in a very small city centre, in comparison to District One at least. The citizens all looked up at her with drooping, over tired eyes and discoloured skin on their visible bones. Somehow, even Kaiser, looked better than District 12 does, especially when the hovercraft picked up his semi-devoured carcass.

"Leaves much to be desired." Cashmere mumbled as she pushed around the mashed potatoes on her plate.

"A spoiled little girl like you would think that." Haymitch laughed. "Least you could've done is humour me." Cashmere looked up at him, her darkened eyes narrowing. "Oh wait, that's right, you don't have a sense of humor."

"You're horrible."

"Tell me somethin' new, princess." Haymitch smiled as he put the nearly empty bottle of white liquor onto the large dining table with force. Cashmere jumped, her eyes darting at her fellow, Victor only to see the way in which his smile tugged a little higher than natural. "Word on the block is that you got the contract." His gray eyes clouded over, losing their usual sharpness.

Cashmere could not help but sigh. "My sister turned three years old yesterday and he put a death wish on her."

"He goes younger and younger every time," Haymitch's voice got lost in the hollow of the white liquor bottle. Emptying it, once again, he threw the bottle onto the ground. The shattering of glass brought quiet to those at the table. A multitude of eyes rolled at their sole victor's indiscretion before turning back to their conversations and eating their so-called feast.

"The President, he said … that I could share your fate." Cashmere chose her words carefully, "what did you lose?"

Putting his fork down onto the table, Haymitch stood up hastily, knocking his chair back with him, "Hey, Ripper!" A scraggily looking woman no older than what Cashmere assumed was 30 turned towards her name being called, "Bring me some of that sweet stuff! I gotta tell a story."

The young-ish woman nodded and brought over another bottle from out back in the kitchen, "Thank you sweetheart," and he planted a big, wet kiss on her cheek. Ripper grinned and walked away. "It isn't a matter of who I lost, more of what I lost. Think of it like dominos." Haymitch directed at Cashmere before pulling the cork out with his yellow teeth. He then spit it out over the broken glass. "And you princess, you set your neat little design off the moment your hot piece of ass came outta that arena alive." He took a long first drink. By the time he brought the bottle away from his lips, it was half empty.

"He killed my ma, my 10 year old brother and my girl," he took another quick swig, "Cassia,she'd have given you a run for your money in the looks department when she got older," he wolf whistled.

"They did nothin' wrong and yet, they suffered. And I gotta live with that." He smiled with all of his yellowed teeth, "But you won't, will you?"

Cashmere shook her head rapidly, curls flowing with the motion.

"Maybe you are cut out for this." He leaned back on his chair, head resting on the top. "Remember, just don't stop smiling. The moment you stop, someone else does too."

Cashmere nodded; her eyes twinkled as they glistened with tears. She ran her index finger along her cheeks, to catch the tears before they fell, destroying all of Floriana's beautiful, hard work. "I'm sorry, for calling you horrible."

Haymitch placed a hand between her shoulder blades and palmed in even circles. Suddenly, it was as if she were back at home; sitting at dinner with her family. The tears were that of Twinkle, who didn't like Cashmere's spaghetti, not of that of unknown Twelve child. The laughing was of her mother after her father told a particularly funny story, about some Capitol television drama, rather than some lady talking about how she had to re-cook a rabbit. Most of all, there sat Gloss, rubbing her back as he coaxed breath into her body as she too was laughing along with her mother instead of Haymitch sitting her trying to get her not to cry.

"It's okay," he whispered into her hair as his hand slid up her neck and brought her head onto his shoulder, "You're one of us now. We'll take good care of you."

She looked up under her eyelashes at Haymitch, and then passed him at Luciana, as she chatted with the mayor's wife. It would be two weeks before she arrived back home. Until then, she knew she would be alright.


End file.
